


The Sky Under the Sea

by ReinaOfTheSirens



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, How Do I Tag, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mermaids, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, Why Should I Pay Attention In Class?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-01-23 10:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaOfTheSirens/pseuds/ReinaOfTheSirens
Summary: After saving a guy from being attacked by a shark, Craig can't shake the feeling that he's seen him before; but there seems to be more to this boy than what meets the eye.





	1. A Little Faster

**Author's Note:**

> I'm creatively impaired, so I took a break from my other work to write this. If you don't know the drill, English is not my first language; so I beg you to have mercy on my soul. I hope you guys enjoy this lame attempt at writing a decent story.

"Are you fucking serious, Dude?" Clyde shook his head in amazement, "I would have thought that you'd be sick of any body of water by now." 

"Then you thought wrong, obviously," Craig retorted, packing the last of his things into his carry-on bag.

"C'mon! The beach isn't that interesting!" Clyde whined, pursing his lips in hopes of getting Craig's attention and convincing him not to go to the west coast—which he didn't. "Or are you gonna try to find your little beach boy?" Clyde added, raising his eyebrows expectantly. 

"You're never going to let that go are you?"Craig rolled his eyes. Sure, he was studying to be a marine biologist because of a boy he had a deep conversation with at the beach when he was nine; but that didn't mean he could never enjoy the vastness of the unknown so close to him by his own accord. The thought of humans knowing more about space than the ocean always intrigued him, and there was also this sense of bliss that overtook him whenever he laid eyes on a lake, a river, or an ocean. It was why he went to the beach every year.

"And for the last time, Clyde, I'm not going to Vegas with you losers," Craig declared, punctuating his statement with the dramatically loud thud of his luggage hitting the floor. 

"You're the one going to the fucking beach on your own. Who's the real loser here?" Clyde crossed his arms, smirking. 

"Still you, Clyde," Craig chuckled. He grabbed his things and pulled them out of the room, ignoring Clyde's complaining about not being a loser. 

"At least wait for me so I can help you with your shit, geez," Clyde huffed. Craig had to admit he was going to miss his friends, but he had a much greater calling—peace and quiet. That was something that would be impossible if he was with the boys. 

Craig let Clyde ramble the entire drive to the airport; they were both used to these situations by now, so Clyde took it as no surprise when Craig wasn't contributing to the conversation. Many people thought it was a miracle that Craig and Clyde were even friends to begin with, but that never phased them. If anything, Craig would respond with a blatant 'me neither' before smirking to himself at the sight of Clyde's disapproving glares. 

Once they made it to the airport, everything moved more fast-paced. Craig scanned the signs, trying to look for his airline; but Clyde wouldn't stop talking.

"Shut up, Clyde! I can't see," Craig barked, taking advantage of the three seconds of Clyde's silence to realize they were walking in the opposite direction of where they were supposed to go.

"That's not my problem," Clyde muttered.

"It will be if I miss my flight," Craig seethed from behind his teeth. He was practically jogging at this point, slightly regretting having asked Clyde for his help seeing how hard it was for him to keep up. Fortunately, they found the right place in a few minutes; and the line wasn't painstakingly long. 

"This is your last chance to not be completely lame and hang with the bros," Clyde nudged him. Craig had no idea why Clyde was insisting so much when both of them knew how it would end.

"Thanks but no thanks," he said one last time before the lady tending to him gave him his boarding pass. Craig waved his good friend goodbye before flipping him off, as he did to all his friends from South Park. 

All else, from the first terminal to his arrival to California, was a monotonous blur of nothing but boredom. Craig was extremely grateful when his taxi driver didn't start spewing small talk on the way to the house his aunt was letting him stay in. He sucked at it, to say the least. As soon as he made it to his room he collapsed onto the bed, feeling the mattress slowly give in to his weight and comfortably cradle him. He decided that a nap was the least he deserved at the moment, and he let himself drift away for a few minutes.

However, the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the rocks woke a giddy feeling within his chest. Walking off the three hours of nothingness along the shore was the most enticing idea he'd had all day. Craig took off his shoes before stepping out of the house; he'd waited for months to feel the sand between his toes and the sea around his feet, so he wasn't going to waste his time and energy on taking off his shoes and carrying them around. 

Craig darted out of the house, breathing in the mixture of air and salt that brought new life into his body. The sun was gently resting against the surface of the horizon, casting its golden sheen across anything in its path. A smile stretched onto his usually stoic face, but he didn't seem to notice or care. 

Craig couldn't possibly settle for just a walk on the beach now, he had to get closer. However, the thought of having to shower afterward made him discard swimming as an option. Maybe if the remnants of exhaustion had completely disappeared he would consider it—but not now. As if someone had known of his inner confliction, a small boat appeared in his line of sight. 

"Today must be my lucky day," Craig thought out loud to himself. He made his way toward the small dock, untying the boat from the post once he was inside it. He was lucky that his aunt was considerably well off and taught him how to move around in one of these things a few years ago. Craig would have been desperate otherwise. 

He set off into the water, relishing in how the boat bobbed as it rode the waves. He had no idea where he was going, but feeling the mist against his skin made him lose all interest in a possible destination. He would stay here forever if he could, let the waves of the sea consume him as their crashing became music to his ears. 

Craig was nearly lost in reverie when he heard a shriek from somewhere nearby. One thing was for certain: this was not a sea creature. He quickly halted the boat, turning his head this way and that—nothing. The earth was eerily still, an unsettling feeling thrashed within his gut as his heart hammered disgustingly against his throat. 

Right as he was going to turn around, the shrieking sound pierced his ears once more. This time, his eyes settling on a clear outline of a guy weakly trying to swim his way back to the shore. What was a person doing swimming all the way out here anyway? Did the tide drag him out here? 

Before Craig could take any sort of action, he recognized the dorsal fin of a menacing predator. He had never moved so fast in his life; his movements were a haze. The roaring of the boat's engine was channeled out by the sheer disbelief that he was in this situation. He snatched a fishing rod from behind him as the boat made it's way toward the boy, but it didn't seem to move fast enough. 

Luckily, the hours Craig thought had passed were only seconds. He threw the rod like a spear, aiming directly at the shark's nose. The weight of this person's life was heavy on his shoulders. The drumming of his pulse was deafening; this isn't what he'd signed up for. A grand sense of relief blanketed his entire body as he felt the rod make contact with the shark's snout. A smile stretched so widely across his face that he thought he'd be sore for a week. 

The relief didn't last long though. The shark was swimming away, yes; but there was no sign of the boy he'd seen before. Craig panicked at the possibility of him running the poor thing over. He searched all around the boat. He scouted everywhere around the area he was in but to no avail. This guy was gone. 'Was there two sharks?' Craig thought, confusion being the only other emotion that could cover his guilt. Had he killed the boy? 

"I'm just super fucking tired. That's gotta be it. I'm seeing shit because I'm tired as hell, duh," Craig reasoned with himself, turning the boat around and racing toward his house. Where was his house? A new terror circulated in his veins—he couldn't see anything. Going out of his way to save the dude he'd supposedly seen must have gotten him much deeper into the ocean than he thought. 

The night had already taken its place in the sky, pulling a black curtain over his surroundings. It didn't help that he couldn't see anything in the dark. He decided against going any further, scared of getting himself even more lost than he already was. He didn't know the time either; he didn't bring his phone with him to avoid any interruptions during his joy ride; he'd never regretted something like that until now. Hopelessly, Craig dropped to his knees—crawling to a somewhat comfortable spot and curling into a ball. 

"This is bullshit," he muttered, closing his eyes because they didn't really serve him a purpose at this time of day. Things could have been a lot worse; that shark could have torn him to pieces. Not even realizing how tense his muscles were, Craig took deep breaths. The steady rocking of the boat as it drifted toward wherever the water led it would be comforting in any other circumstance, but he was undeniably afraid. He wouldn't want to admit that to himself though. 

Craig wanted to punch something or someone; this was so frustrating, but he was too tired and spent to move a muscle. This was worse than that one time he got lost in the mountains alongside Clyde and Token. He, unlike Token, didn't have people watching his back at all times to prevent him from getting into danger or getting lost. Craig would have drilled into the subject if it weren't for the fact that this was no time for senseless sulking. 

As time went by, his breaths started to even out. The wooden planks beneath him seemingly accommodated to the curve of his body, and Craig's fright faded in and out like his wakefulness. The frosty breeze raked shivers throughout his body. His teeth chattered harshly as they collided with each other. It was cold. So cold. 

"You'll be okay, I promise," Craig heard a voice come from somewhere, but he chose to think of it as a dream. He'd finally fallen asleep. He envisioned the little boy he'd met on the beach that day carrying him on his back, repeating a mantra of assurances about his safety and well-being. It was a sweet dream, Craig thought; yet somewhere in the back of his mind, an alarm of familiarity blared, kindling a flame he didn't know existed. However, he didn't care right now. This boy's back was too warm—too cozy. He didn't want to be anywhere else at that moment. 

Things didn't always go as he wanted though, and at some point in the darkness his vision was cut short, and all he could do was remember the gentle warmth of the boy's skin as well as the nurturing tone of his words.


	2. You'll Be Alright As Long As I'm Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my writing being shit.

The boat was slowly rocking Craig, bringing him back from the realm of sleep with the utmost gentleness. The sun, however, was a different story; it blazed relentlessly against his exposed skin and threatened to cook him alive if he didn't take action. 

Luckily, Craig was awake. He stood from the place he'd slept in, his back and neck throbbing as they complained about the position they'd been locked in for hours. He winced as he inched closer to the front of the boat.

"What the fuck?" Craig spoke incredulously. He was right next to the dock, the boat being connected to it by an expertly tied knot. He looked around himself, eyes landing on the house he was theoretically supposed to have slept in yesterday. This had to be some sort of hallucination; there was no way that Craig could have made it here. If a rescue team had seen him, they would have taken him inside or woken him up to check his blood pressure or something. Craig closed his eyes tightly, clenching his jaw before slapping himself in the face with all his might.

"Goddammit!" Craig howled, massaging his right cheek while checking his surroundings again. This time being met by a concerned pair of eyes.

"Oh my God!" Craig flailed onto the wood beneath him but not before a protruding piece of metal sliced the side of his thigh. He hissed, hands immediately pressing against the torn flesh. This was definitely real—way too painful to be a dream. 

"Oh, God-agh! I'm so sorry! A-are you okay?" The stranger spoke, basically leaping toward him to access the damage. "We need to get you inside! This looks bad! Real bad!"

"No shit!" Craig spat. He was in too much pain to think about anyone's feelings except his own physical pain. Looking at the boy more closely, it dawned on him that he looked vaguely familiar. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Craig wasn't sure if it was because of the situation or because of his words but the boy was cherry red. He was panicking, Craig could tell. The poor thing was visibly nervous, possibly more stressed than Craig was despite having been lost in the ocean and wounded on his thigh. He'd twitch and fidget, limbs shaking as he tried to pull Craig's hands away from thigh so he could see the gash properly. 

"N-now's not the time! You're hurt! This is way too much pressure!" He shrieked, effortlessly scooping Craig from off the floor. For a scrawny-looking guy, he had some solid upper body strength. Craig was preoccupied with the stranger's movements, sending fresh jolts through his body whenever a step was taken. 

That didn't seem to matter to him after a few seconds passed; his body was aching all over, the pain barely recognizable from behind the fog that was enveloping him. He wanted to sleep again. Craig didn't even notice when the boy had opened the door and laid him onto the bed that still had his luggage on it—that was until he saw the boy walking away from the bed. He reached for the blonde's arm; his mouth was dry, but that didn't stop him from speaking.

"What's...what's your name?" Craig muttered as quietly as he could, not wanting the words to cut their way out of his throat. 

"You're hurt. My name's not important right now." The stranger tried to remove Craig's hand from his arm, but he was putting every ounce of his strength into his grip. The boy looked at Craig in amazement, or more so surprise, standing shocked and waiting for Craig to either speak or loosen his hand. 

"Please," Craig whispered. It was very uncharacteristic of him to ask for things nicely, especially because he was known to be the apathetic asshole within his group of friends; but he didn't know what else to do. The thought that he'd been important in his life was overruling all else, even his pain. He needed something to hold onto—even if it was just his name.

The blonde sighed, stepping a little closer so that Craig's arm wasn't so outstretched. He wouldn't stop twitching; he must have been nervous. There was a longing and expectant glaze over the blonde's deep blue eyes; Craig knew it. He knew this guy. From where?

"Tweek," he paused, gathering his thoughts. "My name's Tweek."

"We've met b-" 

"Goddammit, Craig!" Tweek jolted, pulling his hand away from Craig. He wanted Craig to just remember him. It almost hurt him how badly he wanted it. It shouldn't be that hard. Then again, Tweek thought, Craig hadn't seen him in ages; but he had. Tweek saw him every year he came to the beach; he'd convinced himself that Craig wouldn't want to be around a spastic like him, so he stopped approaching him. It was one of the worst things he'd done to himself, but his parents thought otherwise. 

"How do you know my name?" Craig deadpanned. He didn't even look wounded anymore.

"I-I need to get some bandages! I'll be right back!" Tweek scurried out of the room. He ground his teeth against each other, grabbing a random object and smacking himself in the head with it. 

"Why are you such an idiot, Tweek?" He whined. 

Meanwhile, Craig laid on the bed in silence. If he wasn't sure before, he certainly was now. Tweek. It didn't sound familiar, but it had a nice ring to it. It was quirky, not to mention the boy himself did seem like he was tweaked out on something. It fit the boy perfectly. 

"I-I found these things in the bathroom. I think they'll be enough," Tweek's voice startled Craig from his thoughts. 

In all honesty, he'd long since forgotten the pain. It was mild discomfort, only bothering him when he made a particularly quick movement. He didn't want to say that to Tweek though. He looked so eager to treat him like he was about to nurse a bird to health or bandage a puppy. It was an odd thought to have about a familiar stranger. 

Tweek was making his way over to the bed when all of the things poured out of his arms. Craig chuckled a little before forcing himself to stop, laughing hurt. The poor blonde bent over and picked up everything, silently cursing himself for being such a klutz. Craig observed his movements carefully and watched as the boy seemed to wave his arms like he was swimming in air. At a sudden realization, he cackled—the discomfort mattering little to him.

"I know who you are," Craig stated, catching the attention of the busy blonde. 

"You remember?" His wide eyes incredulously staring back at him. Hopeful. 

"Of course," Craig sighed. "You're the dumbass that almost got eaten by a shark." 

Trembling in place, Tweek's blood boiled. His face nearly rupturing as he tried to calm down his nerves. 'So this is what he remembers,' Tweek ruefully thought; he might as well thank him now.

"Y-yea. . . that was me," he grumbled.

"That's a relief," Craig breathed as Tweek gathered the last of the things and set them on the bed. He could see the confusion written all over Tweek's face; he was much more expressive than the average stranger.

"I thought I was crazy and imagining things," he elaborated; the other's face seemed to fall a little at the statement. "I'm also relieved that you're okay."

"Really?" He burst, making Craig flinch. 

Craig nodded and gave him an awkward smile. This guy really was unique, even compared to his friends.

"Thank you," Tweek spoke softly, settling himself beside Craig with all his supplies. "I guess you can count this as us getting even." 

"Nah," Craig shook his head playfully, but the gesture didn't register to him. Tweek's face was contorted in shock and agony, almost like he had been condemned to a life of eternal suffering. "I was joking," he clarified, feeling terrible for worrying the kid.

Craig guilty? What? He couldn't believe himself, but this wasn't a friend from South Park. That was his justification. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's kinda hard for me to tell if people are being sarcastic or not," innocently looking away from Craig in embarrassment. "Hey, um. . . you're gonna have to. . . Want me to h-help you," the boy stuttered, pointing at his pants and Craig understood. 

He wordlessly loosened his belt, pulling his pants off as much as he could, staring at Tweek expectantly once he'd done his part. He reveled in how Tweek gulped before tugging Craig's pants off. He knew he was physically attractive. Girls were begging for Craig to go out with them, but he was never interested in relationships for some reason. His heart felt occupied. 

Right before Tweek dabbed Craig's blood away from his leg, a phone rang. Craig reached for it expertly without disturbing his leg, letting Tweek continue this procedure. He looked at the caller ID, groaning. Fucking Clyde.

"Can't live without me, huh," Craig greeted, yelping when Tweek pressed a little too hard on the laceration. 

"Am I interrupting something?" Clyde mockingly cooed. He hadn't picked up on the pained tinge to his voice; Craig decided it was for the better. He didn't feel like explaining himself. He was too groggy—not to mention that Clyde could be a pain whenever he was worried. 

"No," Craig responded, staring at Tweek as he lightly grazed the skin around his thigh. 'This guy must be a nurse or something,' he thought. It made him feel secure—in trembling yet good hands. 

"Ngh. Why does it have to be so big?" Tweek complained, dabbing the streams of blood that were slowly clotting.

Craig would have thought nothing of the phrase if it weren't for Clyde's booming laughter at the other side of the line. He wiggled around, sitting up straight, disregarding how Tweek's hand pressed harshly on the tender skin of his thigh. 

"Gah! Don't move!" Tweek reprimanded, frantically grasping Craig's leg dangerously close to his groin. Craig's face flushed a dark scarlet as Clyde's laughter pierced his ears. 

"Looks like someone found his beach boy!" Clyde gasped for air between fits of giggles. 

"It's not what you think, dumbass!" Craig retorted defensively. 

"Sure," Clyde chuckled. "At least be grateful that he thinks you're big."

Craig grumbled curses in frustration, scrunching his face in annoyance before taking the time to process what he said. Beach boy? Seriously? He was still going on about the fucking be-

"I'll call you back," Craig ended the call abruptly, eyeballing the blissfully unaware Tweek.

It all hit him, the images he'd forgotten after so many years; but was it right to just assume that Tweek was the little boy just because of his blond hair and blue eyes. That sounded like a little much. All thanks to Clyde's big mouth he was suddenly thinking about random things. That was hardly fair. Craig had no idea what to think of it. Asking Tweek was probably the most reasonable thing to do, but there was also the possibility that Tweek wouldn't be able to recognize him if it really was him. 

"Tweek," He muttered, the pink hue of his face only darkening, "do I know you from somewhere?" he repeated. The boy paused for a minute, stealing glances in his direction every few seconds as if he were afraid that his dark eyes would break him. That seemed to be enough of a response for Craig.

"It's been a while hasn't it, fish lover?" Craig teased. If he was indeed the boy he'd known back then, he would get the inside joke.

"W-why would you say that?" Tweek was extremely taken aback, consequently diminishing Craig's confidence. "After all of these years, why would that be the first thing you say? Ah!" The boy twitched, letting go of Craig's leg to yank at the roots of his hair.

"Your hair is a lot less spiky than I remember it being," Craig observed, contemplating the rest of Tweek's features. His jaw was a lot stronger; his muscles were significantly more toned, but he wasn't buff. Somehow, there was something majestic about him.

"It-it's a lot longer now than how it used to be," Tweek replied, distracting himself by returning his attention toward Craig's thigh, putting cotton balls on the wound and fixing them in place with band-aids. Why he didn't just use the band-aids was beyond him, but he wasn't in a position to question him. 

"Looks like we have a lot of catching up to do Tweek," Craig grinned, relishing the way that Tweek's eyes almost bulged forward before he mentally reasoned himself into a relieved state. He hadn't changed that much.

"Y-yea. Maybe later," Tweet murmured, hiding his face behind a golden curtain of hair. 

"How about now?" Craig suggested, pulling his pants back up so he could sit slightly more comfortably. 

There was a hint of doubt in Tweek's eyes, seemingly questioning whether or not he should even stay in the same room as Craig. He looked conflicted, begging to find answers to unspoken questions somewhere within Craig's room; but he didn't have all day to think about it. Craig was already eager. 

"Okay," he accepted softly, gulping down his nerves—mentally preparing for randomly generated questions, physically preparing for the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Mermaids will come in the future, so don't fret. Leave me your kudos and comments to see how well or terribly I'm doing!


	3. Beyond the Sea Blue Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, you guys! I'm sorry this story kinda sucks, but I'm trying! Anyway, please enjoy!

A moment of silence laid awkwardly upon the two boys. Craig was unsure as to how to break the newfound ice while Tweek quivered in place simply accepting the cold of Craig's stare. Craig's curiosity was more powerful; he hadn't seen Tweek in over ten years.

"How come I've never run into you before?" Craig asked, "I mean, I come here every year, and you live here, right?"

Tweek hated the notion of lying to Craig, or anyone, but he felt like it was his obligation. He shouldn't have agreed to this; it was too much for him. If this was his first question, what would the rest of them be like? In simple terms, this was torture for the poor blonde. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for this moment. 

"M-my parents didn't want me outside," Tweek stammered. "They're very protective." It calmed him down to say this because it wasn't entirely untrue. Tweek's parents always thought Craig was trouble.

"That's no fun. It's fucking lame," Craig shook his head. He thought Tweek's parents must have been assholes for depriving him of freedom; he must have felt jailed in his home. He was always in the water whenever they were hanging out; he probably missed the sea.

"So, what are you doing now. . . with life?" Tweek couldn't deny that he wanted to know everything about Craig. Though he'd seen him every year from afar, he had longed for the day he could talk to him like today.

"I'm studying to be a marine biologist," Craig grinned, his smile dedicated solely to Tweek.

"Really?!" Tweek shrieked with excitement. He didn't think Craig would take such interest in marine life, but it made him unbelievably happy.

"Yea," Craig looked away in a futile attempt to hide his embarrassment. "It's all thanks to you, you know?"

Tweek wasn't sure how to react. On one hand, he was ecstatic that he had that much of an influence of Craig; but on the other, he was concerned. He thought he was a fickle person—extremely unreliable. Craig shouldn't be moved by the likes of him; most the of the things Tweek said were things that spewed out of his mouth with reckless abandon. Tweek couldn't understand how his spastic ranting could strike a chord in Craig.

"Why do you look so confused?" Craig muttered, clearly disappointed by Tweek's response. Craig was hoping for something more enthusiastic rather than perplexed. It made him feel like he'd done something wrong, but he hoped Tweek wasn't thinking that he was a creep for thinking about him despite the passage of time.

"I...I just don't know why you'd do that," Tweek stammered. He felt like he was choking on something; his chest ached from what Tweek assumed was a bruised heart.

"For a nine-year-old, you said a lot of deep things. You made me realize how closed off I was in my little world above ground. It was very weird, and I didn't get it when I was a kid, but it stuck with me ever since." Craig rambled like he never had before. Among the many things characteristic to him, talking in excess was not one of them; but there was something about the way they connected those years ago that allowed him to express himself freely.

"Th-thank you." Tweek was awestruck.

His lecturing on the marvels of the ocean had meant something to someone, and that was something he couldn't wrap his head around. When he was younger, and his parents didn't supervise him as intensely as they did now, he would talk to many of the kids about how wonderful the sea was. Most of them thought that Tweek was annoying though, so they wouldn't come back to the beach to visit him, or they would ignore him if they ran into him. Craig was so different; Tweek was almost scared for Craig's health.

"I should be thanking you, dude," Craig smiled sheepishly. "It's because of you that I opened my mind to many things, and my future got a lot clearer." His words sat awkwardly on his heart like he'd just professed his love to a high school crush or he'd asked for someone's hand in marriage. It was a rush that made him feel alive and forget the steady throbbing of his thigh.

Tweek was about to say something when Craig's stomach roared for attention. He couldn't help but giggle when Craig's face reddened; he thought it was endearing—the way he would react to his presence. 

"You hungry?" Tweek questioned, not entirely sure of what the course of action was in this situation. 

"Was that not obvious enough?" Craig rolled his eyes and played off his embarrassment with sarcasm. That was what he did best.

"So...do you have any food?" Tweek inquired. He was hoping that he wouldn't have to cook, the reason being he didn't know how to. He never had to touch a cooking utensil in his life; there was never a situation in which he needed to. 

"No. I've only been here for a day. I was supposed to go get some stuff yesterday, but shit happened," Craig squirmed on the bed, shimmying his way to the edge of the bed before setting his feet on the ground.

"Stop!" Tweek yelled. "What are you doing! Your leg!" He raced in front of Craig, hindering any possibility he had to go anywhere. 

"What? Are you gonna make something for me?" Craig sassed. Tweek's face fell. He already felt guilty because he was indirectly the cause Craig was wounded in the first place, but it saddened him even more that he couldn't do much for him. Bandaging his thigh couldn't make up for his lack of mobility. 

"I was just kidding, dude. Chill out," Craig let himself fall back onto the mattress, ignoring the sharp sting that made him flinch. He supposed that he wasn't that hungry; he could survive a few days without food before becoming a raging asshole. As long as Tweek was there, he felt like it was worth-while. Satiating the hunger of his heart was more important than that of his stomach.

Why was his soul starving in the first place?

"What are you going to eat, then?" Tweek brought Craig out of his reverie. There were no ideas that came to mind. Craig just assumed that Tweek wouldn't press the issue; but then again, why wouldn't he? Of course, he wanted Craig to eat something; he was clearly in need of some form of nutrition.

"It's too early to order lunch," Craig observed. "Maybe there's something in the pantry. Could you go check?" 

Tweek flew out of the door as soon as Craig told him where the pantry was. He opened it only to puzzledly stare at the myriad of packages and boxes that littered the place. There was food, yes; however, he recognized none of it. That became a thing of the past the moment he heard Craig groan in frustration. He dashed into the room, sharing the good news with his hungry friend. 

"Awesome," Craig cheered. "Let's go see," he sat up, clenching his eyes and jaw shut as he braced himself for the oncoming wave of discomfort. He gasped and grit his teeth, startled by the light breeze that caressed him as his feet left the ground.

"You don't have to carry me everywhere, dude," Craig grumbled. "I'm not paralyzed."

"I don't care. You'll be too slow," Tweek declared, nonchalantly carrying Craig to the pantry. Craig didn't have much of a choice other than deal with the fact that he couldn't do much on his own. That hurt his pride more than the gash hurt his body.

Craig spotted a box of Mac and cheese—enough said. Tweek set him down carefully, leaving Craig to desperately clutch to the counter until Tweek could find a chair high enough to where Craig could see what he was doing on the stove. Ultimately, Tweek opted for a chair with a stack of pillows on the seat; he was working with what he had, and Craig could appreciate that. As much as he wished for it to work, it simply didn't. Craig was just a tad too short to see properly. 

"Tweek," Craig paused, gulping down the last of his pride, "I need your help."

"There aren't any more pillows though. Do you want me to bring some couch cushions?"

"You are not touching those cushions, Tweek! Do you know just how badly my life would be at risk if I so much as scratch those things?"

"Then, what are we gonna do?" Tweek tilted raised a brow suspiciously at Craig. 

"Sit in the chair."

"I can't coo-"

"I said, 'sit in the chair!'"

"Why?!"

"Just stop asking questions and sit in the goddamn chair, for fuck sake!" Craig burst, gripping on the counter like the last of his sanity. Tweek wordlessly obliged, shocked by how frustrated Craig was more than how harshly he'd just spoken. Craig took a few deep breaths, coaxing the oxygen to relax his muscles before he slowly sank onto Tweek's lap. 

Tweek's skin was surprisingly rough against his leg, subtly prickling him with any minute movement he'd make. Tweek was also surprisingly cold to the touch despite being flushed red from head to toe. Craig ignored all thoughts of the situation being awkward as soon as his stomach growled again. Sustanence was calling him, consuming him instead of vice versa. 

In a few minutes, Craig's breakfast was done. It wasn't as tasty as he had hoped it would be, but it was what he had, and he wasn't going to waste any of it. He'd offered Tweek some food; however, he didn't look interested in what Craig was eating. Craig couldn't blame him either. Without milk and butter, the mac and cheese was disgusting. 

Craig was still sitting on Tweek's lap, too lazy to say anything about moving. Neither of them minded the closeness; if anything, it was peculiarly satisfying to them. Although they were comfortable in their position, Tweek's chest began to rise and fall in much shorter intervals; his breath sounded increasingly more labored as minutes passed.

"Tweek? Are you okay? You don't look so hot." Tweek was dizzy; his lungs were begging him for something. The oxygen surrounding him only punched holes in his windpipes as he gasped wildly, resisting the urge to thrash out of the chair. His throat was dry, all his moisture being reaped from him the more he tried to calm down. 

"O-okay" He croaked. "I'm okay."

"Bullshit! Is your sugar low? You're cold as fuck; you can't breathe! We need to call a fucking ambulance!"

A million alarms blared within the walls of Tweek's skull as the word 'ambulance' took its time to process through his brain. Not seeing any other option to escape the situation, Tweek impulsively pushed Craig off of him. A bloodcurdling scream shook the house to its core as Craig brutally hit the floor. Pieces of Tweek's heart shattered with every step he took, but Tweek needed out. 

With tears in his eyes, Craig rose to his feet, briefly examining the small spots of blood on the floor before limping out of the house. What had gotten into Tweek? Why was he being so weird all of a sudden? Those were two out of the many questions flooding into Craig. He needed to, at least, make sure that Tweek was okay. He could collapse anywhere if left unattended. 

Footprints clearly lead to the beach, but why would Tweek be there? He was basically dying. Was deep-sea dying on his bucket list?! However ridiculous he thought it to be, he followed the prints anyway; his body felt torn. He was convinced that he would need stitches, the warm blood rivering down to his feet and branding the sand in red. Now wasn't the time to care though. Not when Tweek was doing ten times worse than he was and the beach was emptier than his lungs.

Then he saw him; Tweek gloriously diving into the sea, blond hair nearly blinding him as he gracefully broke the surface of the water.

 

 

Completely disappearing after his tail was lost in the waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, again, for reading! Please leave me your feedback to see how I'm doing!


	4. Surprise Surprise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm just gonna leave this here if you don't mind! Thank you!!!

Craig was nailed onto the sand, slowly sinking into the pit of confusion forming underneath him. The shock kept him paralyzed, staring blankly at the spot where Tweek's body had been swallowed by the sea; and he couldn't wrap his head around it. He had begun to think that the loss of blood was messing with his brain; maybe he was still on the boat, lying in a pool of his blood.

That made no sense to Craig. If this were a dream, he wouldn't be in so much pain. If this were a hallucination, he wouldn't feel the sand engulfing his feet. If he was delusional, he wouldn't be questioning his sanity. Against his better judgment, he sat in the sand and stared idly at the sea. There were so many questions he had, but the one that plagued him the most was why he wasn't shaking in fear.

Craig was only on the sand for about half an hour before he spotted Tweek's head breaking the surface of the water. Craig couldn't be more enraptured; Tweek's blond hair, like the rising sun, gleamed as he walked out toward the shore. His shirt clung to him, dripping like the rest of him. Seeing Tweek's legs made Craig think that maybe he had just been dreaming when he saw a tail.

"C-Craig?" Tweek stammered, running over to him. "How long have you been out here?"

"A while," Craig answered laconically. 

"What all were you looking at?" Tweek asked as his face started to anxiously twitch. How was Craig supposed to say anything about what he saw? He wanted to word something better than 'hey Tweek, are you a fucking mermaid?'. He took his time giving it some thought, pondering over how to possibly ease into the conversation and not startle Tweek. Maybe it was better that Tweek didn't know that Craig had seen a tail as he dived into the water. Hell, maybe Tweek shouldn't know that he chased after him at all. 

"Hey, Tweek, are you a mermaid?" Craig blurted, witnessing how all color left Tweek's face and horror plastered itself onto him. As Tweek tried to run, Craig clutched his hand; and that was answer enough for him. 

Not having the emotional strength to leave Craig again, Tweek let himself plummet onto the sand beside Craig.

"I'm so so-sorry," Tweek whimpered. "You weren't supposed to see that," he hid his face in his hands, silently praying for the god of the sea to swallow him whole. 

Craig felt a crushing grip around his heart; his veins ached as his body acted on its own accord, bringing Tweek into his arms and pressing him firmly against his chest. Craig gulped, trying to swallow the beating of nervousness in his throat. 

"You looked... really pretty when you were... uh... going in the water," Craig stammered. He couldn't help the thought that Clyde would be laughing uncontrollably if he were here. Craig had, obviously, never found himself in this kind of situation in his lifetime; he'd never wanted to comfort someone so badly before—bring them peace.

Tweek's cheeks brightened beyond what he ever thought possible. A feeling of unease throbbed in his gut; his parents had talked to him about this feeling when he had reached puberty. They told him how the numbness would pulse through his body—how the world would cease to matter to him. 

Being around Craig so long, having this much contact with him; was a terrible idea. He knew that his cover was blown and that something had to be done about this situation, but the fact that Craig was not running from him or urging him to transform again made him want to dance in praise to whatever god had brought this man to him. 

Years of admiring Craig from afar were catching up to him; the pent-up longing was expressed clearly through a heavy sigh, and Craig stiffened as he felt Tweek's hair tickle his neck as Tweek nuzzled into his chest.

"How long can you stay?" Craig asked, not giving it much thought. Tweek probably didn't want to be bombarded with questions. 

"Out of the water, I mean," Craig could feel Tweek's face scrunch, so he had decided to elaborate. 

"I can usually s-stay about two days... I was just tired. Y-you know... from swimming a-away from the shark." It was the first time anyone had ever known of his secret, so it was also the first time hearing someone take interest in his well-being outside of the water. It warmed his heart.

"O-oh, cool." It was Craig's turn to stutter. He wanted to facepalm himself for his lack of words, but he truly didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. What would any other man do when they find their childhood crush and discover he's a mythical creature?

"You're not going to sing a song and then eat me alive, are you?" Craig blurted yet again. He seriously needed to learn to filter himself; he might get his ass killed one day. Craig felt Tweek tremble in his arms, and Craig started to panic. He had a litany of apologies at the ready before he heard the most majestic sound the universe had to offer: Tweek's laughter. 

"I'm not a siren," Tweek giggled, "I'm a merman." Tweek wasn't bothered by the question, though he felt that he should be. There was something about Craig's unadulterated curiosity that was endearing to Tweek. He found himself wishing he could show Craig just how vast the world really was, and he hoped to someday usher into Craig's life a plethora of new sensations and experiences. He wanted to share himself with Craig, more than anything.

A hiss of pain immediately stopped his train of thought. In the midst of his laughter, Tweek hadn't noticed when he'd mindlessly pressed his hand against Craig's thigh. 

"I'm sorry!" Tweek squeaked, taking a look at the dried blood on the other's clothes.

"I think I might actually have to go to the hospital... this thing isn't closing right," Craig mumbled, hating the way the wound totally ruined the moment they were having—or at least the moment he hoped they were having. 

"I-I..." Tweek paused, hesitant on whether or not he should actually follow through with what he was going to offer.

"You, what?" 

"I-I can heal your wound... If you want me to."

The concerned tone in Craig's voice seemed to be enough to coax Tweek into continuing. Tweek just guessed that since Craig knew he was a merman, there was really nothing that could be "worse" at this point.

"You... can?" Craig's brows knit together as he tried to think back to all the stories he'd heard about mermaids. None of them had mentioned mermaids having the ability to physically repair a gash on someone's leg; unless Tweek was talking about just bandaging his leg again, in which case he would have to decline out of genuine concern for his own health.

Tweek wasted no time tearing the material of Craig's jeans, surveying the skin that was around the injury to make sure it wasn't getting infected. Craig was just glad no one was around to hear him yelp in surprise. He couldn't get over how strong Tweek was; he probably had a mean punch, but he wasn't going to be the one to test that out.

"I'm not gonna lie," Tweek fidgetted, biting his lip as he hovered his fingertips above the gash, "this is probably gonna hurt."

Craig gulped and nodded, not finding the correct words to describe how anxious he was to see how Tweek was planning to heal him. Sure, he probably should have been more worried about the pain, but he was just so intrigued by what was playing out that the potential ache was completely overlooked. 

Tweek gave a worried smile as he pressed his finger into his leg. The initial sting made Craig want to flinch away, but Tweek's hand held his thigh in place. A cooling sensation spread across the entirety of his thigh, and Craig thought that the worst had passed. That wasn't so bad. However, after a few moments, Tweek looked up and into Craig's eyes. 

'I'm sorry,' Tweek mouthed as he pressed harder into Craig's thigh. The cold haze immediately blazing under his skin. His hand flew to his mouth to cover his groans, later opting to bite down on his hand instead. Craig could almost feel how the tissue was being sewn together; and little by little, Tweek loosened his grip on Craig and the pressure against what was once his wound. 

Craig took a few deep breaths before looking down and observing the affected skin. There was a scar there like he'd never seen in his life. An iridescent stripe now decorated his thigh, and he couldn't stop himself from reaching to touch it—surprised when no pain ensued. He carefully lifted his leg from the sand, feeling no hindrance in his movement.

That definitely beat going to a hospital and getting stitches. 

"At least you weren't lying when you said it was gonna hurt," Craig teased. It was a lame excuse for a 'thank you' and he was glad to see that Tweek seemed to understand that much.

"You're welcome," Tweek smiled, glad that he could be of service. 

A heavy moment of silence fell between them, and the uncertainties from both parties started to make themselves apparent in the way that they avoided eye contact.

"H-hey, uh... do you want to... you know... go back inside the house with me? Unless you don't want to. That's fine. I'm just burning out here, and I don't know if you are too," Craig rambled nervously, and Tweek could only smile at Craig's thoughtfulness. 

"Yea, I'd love to," Tweek assured, blushing madly at how desperate he was to stay with Craig as long as possible. 

They walked back to the house in a comfortable silence. Craig offered Tweek some clothes and the opportunity to use the shower; Tweek chose to do both, knowing that he probably reeked of sweat and salty water. 

Craig thought it was kinda cute how his clothes were baggy on Tweek, and Tweek didn't seem to mind that either. They chatted for a while about the clothes and the house before Craig suggested ordering pizza so they could watch a movie. Tweek followed Craig into the living room so they could pick out a movie as they waited.

"Do you come up here often? To the surface?" Craig questioned as he and Tweek sat on the couch, staring at a blank TV. 

"Not really. I only really come up during this time of year...because I knew that it was when you'd be here," Tweek admitted, fixing his eyes on Craig's reflection on the TV.

"Why didn't you ever come up to me before?" Craig would always go back home after his break feeling somewhat incomplete. Ever since he was nine, he had hopes of coming back to this place only to see Tweek. Eventually, coming here had become such a ritual to him that he had almost entirely forgotten why he came to begin with.

"I was scared," Tweek deadpanned. "I think because you were the first person to listen to me ramble without making fun of my ticks, I didn't want to overstay my welcome and annoy you."

"What ticks?" Craig chuckled, ruffling Tweek's hair. He wished some of his friends had that sense of consideration—not enough to make them completely avoid him though. Clyde wouldn't care whether he was "overstaying his welcome" or not, but at this point, he knew where the line in the sand was. That didn't mean he didn't cross it from time to time.

Tweek opened his mouth to say something when the realization dawned on him. He hadn't twitched at all in the past few minutes. He didn't twitch on his way here or in the shower; he'd stopped stuttering at some point.

"Thank you, Craig," Tweek turned to face him, his heart skipping a beat when he spotted Craig already facing him with a light blush on his face, "for listening to me back then and for listening to me now."

"You don't need to thank me, you know" Craig mumbled sheepishly, "I liked-I like spending time with you." Craig wanted to punch himself in the gut; this was so fucking awkward. His blood rushed to his cheeks as he noticed something warm swimming in blue of Tweek's eyes; he couldn't look away.

"I guess so," Tweek whispered and snatched the remote from Craig's hand, pressing the big red button that caught his attention. His breath was quickening, and he knew he had to look away from Craig before he did something he might regret. Luckily, the red thing was actually the power button and he wasn't making himself look stupid.

Seeing as Tweek didn't know how to do anything else, Craig took the remote back. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he grazed Tweek's finger and heard his breath catch. Tweek was biting his lip again. Craig inhaled deeply before wrapping his arm around Tweek's shoulder bringing him close until their bodies were flushed against each other. 

Tweek smiled affectionately at himself as he heard the manic beating of Craig's heart nearly mirroring his, reassured by the thought that there was a possibility that Craig was feeling the same way as him. Tweek closed his eyes, basking in the warmth of the other as he let Craig choose the movie. 

Tweek and Craig found themselves hoping that the pizza guy took much longer than thirty minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Hopefully, my inspiration and motivation don't take a huge hike! Anyway, let me know how I'm doing! I'd love to hear your feedback!

**Author's Note:**

> So, yea. I'm not sure if people are actually going to like this or not. Please let me know if you want to see more of this. Thank you so much for reading! Have a marvelous day!


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